To the Medic's Tent
by LookingForTheLightSwitch
Summary: <html><head></head>A nasty scrape during a rough and tumble game of football leaves Captain James headed to the medic's tent.</html>


**A/N – I got some really positive responses from my last fic which I totally wasn't expecting. So thank you! This one's sort of similar but different. I know, I'm so informative. Either way, I hope you like it.**

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><p>All of the lads were playing an overly enthusiastic game of football. Molly knew this because she'd already had to treat two bloody noses and a sprained ankle.<p>

The sprained ankle was Smurf, who seemed to be finding any excuse to visit the medic's tent lately. She had bandaged the ankle whilst mocking him gently, hoping to avoid any conversations with the L-word in. Smurf was a great friend, but that's all he was; a friend. If only he could understand that.

She tidied away the bloody tissues and rags and sorted out her work area. When she was nearing completion, just wiping down the surfaces with an antiseptic, she heard a loud collective groan from outside.

"Now that don't look pretty," she heard the ever dulcet tones of Smurf remark.

Molly sighed and marched to the door, flinging the flap open.

"Now which one of you cockwombles has managed to- Oh. Sorry, sir."

Captain James gave her a bashful smile from his position on the floor, a scrape travelling almost from his chin to his belly button.

"That's quite alright, Dawes, just leave me here to die why don't you?"

Although the graze looked awful, Molly could tell it clearly wasn't that bad from the smile he was giving her. The smile wasn't half bad either. Molly's heart rate had definitely increased, the beating in her ears so loud she almost wondered if the rest of the unit could hear her. At the rate it was going, she wouldn't have been surprised if her Mum couldn't hear it all the way from London.

Pulling herself together, Molly offered a hand to her Captain.

"You comin'? Or do we need a stretcher?"

"Well..." James' eyes twinkled.

"That weren't a choice, now get up, you lazy twat," she smiled, then added belatedly, "sir."

James grabbed her outstretched hand and Molly tried to ignore the blood she could feel rushing to her face. It was the Afghan heat, nothing more, she told herself weakly. The butterflies in her stomach suggested otherwise.

James held on for slightly too long, his fingers finally sliding from hers as they headed towards the tent.

"Maybe next time you won't try and get 'round my skills," Dangleberries called after the Captain, to uproar from the other players.

"An' maybe next time you're gonna end up on shitter duty now," Molly yelled back, which was met with an approving smile from James.

"Shitter duty, nice idea," he said as they entered the slightly cooler air of the medical tent.

"Certainly smarter than sliding along on your face, sir," Molly smirked.

"But now I'm in here with you; I think it's worth it," James replied easily.

"Just you wait until I start stickin' ya with needles."

"You wouldn't do that, terrible waste of army resources, right Dawes?"

"I'm sure we could make an exception, sir. Just for you, Captain's privilege an' all that," Molly replied, giving her captain an innocent smile.

"Don't you dare," James laughed. "I should be treated the same as every other soldier here. Which means no needles in sight."

"Alright, sir," Molly conceded. "Now let's look at this massive cock-up you made of your face."

The Captain tried to make a face of mock hurt, but in doing so moved too quickly and winced.

"I think I've seen bullet wounds that 'urt less than this, sir," Molly contributed helpfully. "Or you're just a massive wuss."

"Dawes, I'm fairly sure in your job description it says you're a medic, would you care to do any…" James paused to think of a suitable word.

"Mediccing?" Molly offered.

"Yes, why not? The English language is just flourishing out here in Afghan," James smiled amusedly. "Shit!"

"Sorry, sir," Molly said as she wiped his wounds. "Antiseptic ain't gonna be the nicest part of this."

"Well then, Dawes, what is?" James raised his eyebrows.

As Molly turned to get some bandages to cover up the worst of the damage and to avoid contamination from the dust, James certainly thought the view wasn't bad. He looked away abruptly at this realisation, focusing instead on a patch of tent canvas intently.

"You alright, sir?" Molly asked, popping into his line of sight. "I ain't gonna have to treat you for concussion as well, am I?"

"Not today, Dawes," James replied with a smile.

"Right, arms up," Molly ordered. "And hold that there," she told him, offering one end of the bandage.

"What did your last slave die of?"

"I left 'im to die after he did a stupid slide tackle and messed 'is face up," Molly said seriously.

"Touché," James replied.

"I'm not even gonna pretend I know what that means, sir," Molly laughed.

She stood facing him, and passed the bandage round behind his back, the action requiring her to be very close to him. She'd never appreciated how nice looking his chest was before. Well, she had, but not that she was going to admit to herself. She could feel the heat radiating from his body from such close proximity and she felt her face flush as she continued wrapping the bandage around him, avoiding eye contact.

"Molly," James said, so softly Molly wondered if she was imagining it.

She looked up and their eyes met. They looked at each other wordlessly for a few seconds and Molly thought she could see the same attraction in his eyes as she was sure he could see in hers. There were a few more seconds of silence before they both leant in.

A loud shout and the sound of canvas caused them to jump away from each other in alarm. Baz stood in the doorway, bottles of water in hand. He looked slightly confused at the bandages which now sagged around the Captain's waist. Molly saw his look and rapidly tried to explain.

"You scared me, you fucking wanker. Now look what I've gotta do again. An' he ain't smellin' too fresh either…"

"Thank you, Dawes," Captain James said dryly.

"You're welcome," Molly replied cheerily.

The bottles of water were chucked at them and they both took long gulps.

"The Corporal wants to see you, sir," Baz added.

"Right. Yes, tell him I'll be there in a minute?" James replied, gesturing towards the bandages and Baz nodded, jogging off.

Molly took this as a signal to recommence the treatment and hastily began wrapping the bandages around him. She tied the final knot within thirty seconds and stepped back quickly, under the guise of sorting out her equipment.

"Thanks, Dawes," James said, Molly responding with a modest shrug.

James walked over to the entrance of the tent, pausing for a second in the doorway to look back.

"And Molly," he added, his voice much softer. "See you later?"

"Not if you've been slidin' on your face again," Molly grinned. "But yeah, later."

It could have been a goodbye between friends, but it definitely felt like more. Less of an open ended statement, more of a promise.

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><p><strong>AN - *cough*reviews*cough***


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